


In Another Life, In Another World

by Valaskia



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal, Bisexual Male Character, F/M, Oral, Shameless Smut, Vaginal, siblingcest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27050044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaskia/pseuds/Valaskia
Summary: Smut without Plot, and nothing but.The Author reminds all readers that this is strictly fiction.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Bran Stark, Joffrey Baratheon/Myrcella Baratheon
Comments: 20
Kudos: 9





	1. I

Here is a bit of smut with no real plot. Enjoy.  
*****  
In Another Life, In Another World  
Chapter 1

“Your dead men seem to have moved camp.”

He looked at the man and suppressed a choice swear. The knight was always so arrogant and smug. He longed to punch the man in his smug, satisfied face. He wondered why the highborn ass had bothered to join the Night’s Watch in the first place.

“Find out where they went.” The man said again.

XxxxxxX

They had split up, each searching the nearby forest for the man when they had come across…, them. Terrible creatures straight out of childhood tales, told by mothers to make children behave. Except these were real.

In a dark and wooded area, north of the wall, he raced through the trees, desperate to make it to the safety of the wall. What he had just witnessed was enough to terrify any man out of their wits, and he was no exception. “The White Walkers! They were real.” He thought with dismay verging on terror. He ran as fast as he could go. “I have to warn the others at Castle Black. If I can reach the wall, I will be safe from them, and I can let the Lord Commander know what has happened.” He thought to himself. “While he ran, he had another thought—a more disturbing one. 

“Would the Lord Commander believe him? Who would believe him? And even if someone did, how could they stop the White Walkers? Creatures that hadn’t been seen for thousands of years and could raise the dead to do their bidding.” He certainly was not eager to fight them, and the odds were quite likely that he would be sent beyond the wall again, against his wishes. The outcome of this was likely to be his death. Just like his two companions on this journey. “No, thank you!” He thought with dismay. The words of his compatriot rang in his ears.

“You want to run away south, run away. Of course, the Watch will behead you as a deserter. If I don’t catch you first.” He shook his head clear of the voice, for it did him no good now. His brothers were dead. Killed by monsters, and he refused to share their fate. “Better to take my chances and flee south. I will be branded a deserter, but better that than the walkers. I must simply make it past the wall and find some new clothes. Who will ever know I was a brother then? By the time they sort it out, I’ll be long gone.” With that, he turned and headed toward a little-used tunnel that would allow him to travel past the wall undetected.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

“Do you understand why I had to do it?” Lord Stark asked, facing him as he cleaned his sword.

“Jon said he was a deserter.” He said timidly.

“But do you understand why I had to do it?” His father asked again as he sheathed his sword.

“Our way is the old way?” He asked, uncertain.

“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.” His father said quietly.

“Is it true he saw the White Walkers?” He asked, looking up at his father. His father’s face shifted slightly before his jaw tightened into a frown.

“The White Walkers have been gone for thousands of years.” His father replied.

“So, he was lying then?” He asked, feeling a slight sense of relief.

“A madman sees what he sees.” His father replied again, taking off in the direction of their horses.

Bran frowned uncertainly, his jaw setting, eerily reminiscent of his father as he followed, an odd weight setting in his stomach. Somehow, he did not feel all that reassured.  
XxxxxxX

A few hours later, they returned to Winterfell carrying the litter of Direwolf pups they had rescued. Bran smiled slightly, petting his pup as Sansa cooed quietly over hers, petting it and naming it Lady. He shook his head at her choice of names. Sometimes he wondered whether there was much of the North in his oldest sister at all. Meanwhile, unsurprisingly, Arya had chosen to name her pup Nymeria after the Warrior Princess, who had led her people to freedom in Dorne. He shared a glance with his sister, a smirk crossing across their faces as they looked at each other. He was already planning another of their nightly excursions into the broken tower once the castle had fallen asleep.  
XxxxxxX

They pulled apart and collapsed on the hard-wooden floor of the broken tower, panting and grinning like schoolchildren. Arya smirked and stood first, quickly pulling up her trousers, her brother’s seed leaking from between her cheeks as she winced slightly in pleasant discomfort. She indeed liked it when Bran got rough with her. They had been doing this for a few weeks now, after observing one of the stable lads thrusting into one of the kitchen maids in an empty stall.

“We better get back inside now, Bran, before we get caught out of bed.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Bran said, blushing crimson as he stood, dressing quickly and following Arya back into the castle.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

It had all started like any other day during their journey north to Winterfell. He would ride with his father and the men for a few hours while his obnoxious, drunkard father and dwarven uncle boasted of all the whores they fucked, while he sighed in boredom, forced to listen yet again to his father’s tales of what made you a real man. Eventually, he would make an excuse and fall back towards the large wheelhouse where his mother and sister were riding, comfortably inside, enjoying the luxurious comfort it had to offer, amongst other things.

His father had called a halt to their journey for a while, presumably to fuck one of the many whores he had brought with him on the trip, and so he dismounted his horse, leaving it with a servant, while he discretely knocked on the wheelhouse door, giving the agreed-upon signal. A few moments later, the bolts and locks clicked inside, and Myrcella’s head popped out, her glorious golden curls framing her heart-shaped face, her emerald eyes shining as she spotted her older brother. He smiled slightly and slipped inside the wheelhouse with her, the locks quickly sliding into place before Myrcella turned to face him, her slender figure on display as she shook her gown loose.

Joffrey gave a smug grin, his gaze settling on his younger sister’s slender frame. Myrcella stood before him with a sultry smile; her small breasts and pert pink nipples simply begging to be sucked. Following his downward gaze, a smooth flat stomach and a light dusting of blonde fur covering the glistening lips of her pink slit as she smiled softly, noticing his staring, her gaze fixed on his trousers, the front fabric tenting with his erection.

“Mm, someone is happy to see me,” Myrcella cooed, smiling cheerfully at her brother, as she dropped to her knees and deftly worked to unlace her older brother’s breeches.

“Very glad to see you. Gods yes. Just like that.” Joffrey said in a breathy whisper as Myrcella fished him out of his smallclothes and began stroking him in her soft, warm hands. He opened his mouth to encourage her, but his words died off into a quiet whimper of bliss as her lips closed around his hard flesh. He sighed loudly in content, whispering her name as her tongue deftly teased his head as her hand pumped his shaft, stroking his length as he stifled the urge to grab her head and ram his cock down her throat, choosing instead to let her go at her own pace.

Myrcella hummed softly, looking up at her brother, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief as she hollowed her cheeks, expertly sucking him as she had done so many times before. She knew he would not last long at this rate. They had not been alone together safely for most of the journey with their oaf of a father demanding he ride with him.

Joffrey gripped her head, his knees buckling as he thrust into her mouth, his cock spurting as he flooded her mouth with his cum. She pulled back and looked up at him, her mouth open, proudly displaying his heavy load of seed before smiling up at him as she swallowed.


	2. II

In Another Life, In Another World  
Chapter 2

Dismounting his horse and leaving it with a stablehand, he turned to face his sons. “Return to the yard, boys, and continue with your training.”

“Yes, father,” They chorused, except for Jon Snow, who nodded, his eyes downcast, and said, “Yes, Lord Stark.” He watched them walk away, Robb and Theon laughing, while Bran followed eagerly behind, longing to be like them. Jon trailed silently at the rear.

He felt a pang of guilt. Jon was a lot like him. Quiet, brooding, bound up in his honor. His spirit tapered by the vengeful nature of his wife. “If only she would be kind to the boy. He deserved to know the truth, but he was safer this way.” “Jory, tell my wife that I’m going to the Godswood to pray.” Lord Stark said before leaving the stables.

XxxxxxX

“After all these years, I still feel like an outsider when I come here.” Lady Stark said, approaching the massive Weirwood tree.

“You have five Northern children. You’re not an outsider.” He said, setting aside the oilcloth he had been using to wipe down Ice.

“I wonder if the Old Gods would agree.” She sighed, glancing up at the tree's tall branches, laden with leaves of red and gold and green. “Autumn was here at last, which meant that Winter was coming.” She felt a churn in her stomach that she fought to suppress.

“It’s your gods with all the rules.” He said.

“I’m so sorry, my love.” She said, sitting beside him and placing a hand on his arm.

“What is it?” He asked, a feeling of dread rising. She never disturbed him here unless it was necessary.

“Jon Arryn is dead. I know he was like a father to you.” She said softly.

XxxxxxX

“The King is riding North to Winterfell. With the Queen and the court.” Lady Stark said quietly. 

“He’s coming all this way. There’s only one thing he’s after.” Ned said wearily.

“You can always say no, Ned.” She pleaded.

“The King has journeyed all this way for Lord Stark’s aid. If your sister’s warning is true, and the Lannisters conspire against the Crown, who but you can protect the King.” Maester Luwyn said.

“They murdered the last Hand of the King. Now you want Ned to take the job?! Your father and brother rode South on a King’s command once.” She said in despair.

“A different time, a different King,” Luwyn stated before leaving, allowing them to turn in for the night. 

Sleep would be slow in coming this night.

XxxxxxX

"Ugh ugh ugh, yes. Fucking take it, Squid boy." He said between grunts and moans of pleasure.

He heard the voice behind him, moaning and panting as the bedframe creaked. It was a familiar situation he had found himself in every night for the past five years. Since he was 11 and his Lord deemed him a suitable age. On all fours in his bed with a cock in his ass. Behind him, Lord Stark clinging tightly to his hips as he used him to make his dick cum.

He grunted softly into the pillow to stifle his cries. He could feel the rough hands on his hips, the loud and sweaty figure behind him panting and moaning as he roughly thrust into his hole. He closed his eyes and bit back a moan, ashamed as the hard cock ramming into his bowels hit his prostate again and again, making his vision swim. He reached down, his hand wrapping around his cock, stroking the iron-hard rod, and moaned, his cock twitching as he spurted his thick seed into his hand. Behind him, he heard the gruff voice of Lord Stark as he slammed home inside him and felt his cock spurting his seed inside him. 

"Sweet gods, boy. You are a fine piece of ass. Take it. Take my wolf cock up your boycunt like a good little squid." He said as he felt himself cumming, his seed flooding into his young ward's ass. He pulled out of Theon's ass and sat back on his heels on Theon's bed, panting hard before standing and dressing, leaving without a word as Theon recovered. He did not need to hear Lord Stark's unspoken words that he would be back again the following night. 

He visited Theon's bed every night after his shrew of a wife was fast asleep.

XxxxxxX

Standing guard outside the King’s room was never a pleasant job for him. That’s when Robert liked to bring his whores to bed and dishonor his sister. Not that Cersei had ever indeed been faithful to him either. He had been bedding his sister for most of their lives.

Downstairs, music and laughter sounded in the Inn where they were lodged, the King’s company drinking and eating and fucking tavern girls while their companions cheered them on. Meanwhile, he was stuck babysitting Robert when he would rather be with Cersei.

“Take my cock in your filthy cunt, you whore. I’ll put a son in your belly for sure.” Came the loud voice of Robert from inside.

“Foolish man. Your children are all lions, not stags. And quite like their parents if his suspicions about his two oldest were correct. They are so much like us. Myrcella could be Cersei’s twin at that age. Except for the malice present in Cersei’s eyes. Myrcella was a sweet girl.” He thought to himself, praying she would not become her mother.

“Ah, fucking take it, wench. Take my royal seed.” The King bellowed. Shortly afterward, a parade of half-nude women exited the room, followed by the sound of that fat oaf’s snoring. Jaime sighed. It was going to be a long night.

XxxxxxX

“Ungh, fuck yes. Can you believe it, Arya? The King is coming to Winterfell to visit father.” Bran said between loud moans and grunts, gazing into Arya’s eyes as his hands gripped her thighs, his small cock thrusting in and out of her ass.

“Why not? They’re old friends. Maybe we can both become Knights one day if we can make a good impression on the King,” Arya panted breathlessly, her legs resting on her brother’s shoulders as he plowed into her ass.

“We can hope, but who knows. Father probably wouldn’t let him make you a Knight. You’ll wind up being wasted on some fat stupid lord, probably.” Bran teased between thrusts, making Arya roll her eyes and kick the back of his head with her heel.

“Idiot. Shows what you know. That’ll never happen to me. I refuse to let it.” She scoffed, feeling Bran stiffen above her as she felt his essence pour into her hole before he rolled off of her.

“How are you going to manage that?” Bran asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know yet,” Arya sighed, turning away from him and laying on her side.

XxxxxxX

Sneaking into his sister’s room that night, half-drunk on ale, he pulled back the bedcovers and crawled in beside her, causing her to smile before seeing the darkened expression on his face.

“What is it, Joffy?” She purred softly.

“Father says we’ll reach Winterfell in a few days.” Joffrey sighed.

“So, what’s wrong with that? We’ll find ways to be together. Mother will help us, like always.” Myrcella said, trying to reassure him as she pulled his head down to rest on her chest. 

“It’s not just that. Father’s going to make me marry one of those stupid Stark girls.” Joffrey sighed. Her eyes burning with anger, Myrcella said nothing.


	3. III.

In Another Life, In Another World  
Chapter 3

A cold chill ran down his spine as he saw the Royal procession pass through the gates of Winterfell. Unable to shake the feeling that something terrible was coming, he said nothing, hanging back with the castle servants as his family was greeted warmly by the King. A pang of longing, he quickly suppressed. A bastard could never hold a place among his legitimate family, at least not outside of Dorne, where things were so vastly different. Turning away, he slipped into the kennels to visit Ghost, his sole source of comfort now.  
XxxxxxX

Lady Stark had made it clear from the moment the Royal party was first sighted on the road that he was to remain out of sight for the duration of the King's visit. It would not do to have a bastard seated in their midst—the shame of House Stark. Sitting in the soft hay petting Ghost, he sighed, stopping when he heard a quiet whimper from the next stall down, in a hushed voice. Creeping around the booth, he peered in, surprised to find none other than Sansa's annoying snotty friend Jeyne Poole. He was about to speak, to ask what she was doing when he realized that her dress was pulled up, and she had three fingers shoved between the lips of her slit. He gasped aloud and cursed himself when her eyes snapped open, and she jerked her hand free, startled, and saw him standing there. 

"W-what are you doing here, bastard?" Jeyne said in a panicked voice, clearly hoping to distract him from the scene before him. She lay back against the empty stall with her dress still pulled up, her tiny pink slit now exposed obscenely before him.

"I was visiting Ghost. I suppose I could ask you the same thing, though. I wonder what my sweet sister Sansa would say if she knew you liked to frig yourself in the kennels." He said with a smirk.

"S-she wouldn't believe you. Y-you can't prove it." She said until she saw where he was looking and quickly covered herself. 

Quick as lightning, Jon reached down and snatched up her discarded knickers. "I'm sure this will be sufficient proof for my claims." He said with a grin.

Jeyne's eyes widened in fear and resignation, hanging her head. "What do you want?" She asked in a defeated whisper.

"Let's put your smart little mouth to a better use," Jon said, unlacing his breeches. Jeyne stared in dismay as she watched him, before her eyes bugged out, catching sight of the first of many cocks she would suck in her lifetime.

XxxxxxX

Settling in at the high table beside her brother, Myrcella rolled her eyes at the eldest Stark girl. She was sweet enough but silly and not exactly bright. A girl raised on childish fairy tales about knights and damsels; she had a false impression of the world. She saw Joffrey pretend to listen and nod politely, but she knew his patience was wearing thin. 

A sudden bold idea came to her, and her hand moved under the table, settling in his lap, slowly stroking him through his breeches. Beside her, Joffrey stiffened and spared her a glance, a grin forming on his face before turning back to his plate while Sansa babbled beside him. Suddenly, Sansa shrieked, and Myrcella paused, looking over. The front of Sansa's dress was splattered with shepherd's pie, and she barely suppressed a laugh. 

Sansa left the table to change as Arya was escorted from the hall. Myrcella continued stroking Joffrey, unlacing the front of his breeches and worming her delicate hand inside to grip him, finding him hard at her expert touch. The Great Hall of Winterfell was loud with the ribald songs and chatter of its residents, which covered the sound of Joffrey moaning her name as he climaxed. Myrcella withdrew her hand as he laced himself back up, bringing her soiled hand to her lips to lick the slender digits clean, a mischievous grin on her face as Joffrey found himself hard again.

XxxxxxX

Late that night, the castle was finally quiet as its inhabitants were deep in slumber, either natural or, in most cases, drunken. The King was fast asleep in his room, surrounded by whores in a massive bed. Meanwhile, in a chambers suit opposite the King's, his wife, Queen Cersei, was very much awake.

"Fuck yes, Jaime. Harder. Oh, seven hells, yes, just like that." Cersei moaned, on all fours, her face buried into the pillow to stifle her cries of pleasure. Behind her, her twin brother rammed her hard and fast, panting and moaning as he grew close, his cock pulsing as he spilled his load inside her cunt. Falling back onto the bed beside her, he lay against the headboard panting as Cersei smiled, curling up against his chest.

"Did you hear about Robert's latest half-brained idea?" Cersei sighed, breaking the mood as she propped herself up on an elbow.

"Probably not. That fat, drunken oaf has had so many of them lately. What is it this time?" Jaime sighed.

"He wants to marry Joffrey off to that stupid little Stark girl, Sansa. The little fool." Cersei said, scowling as she climbed off the bed and went to fill a glass with wine.

"Really? And what did the Starks have to say to that?" Jaime asked, glancing toward his nude twin.

"Ned Stark said that Sansa was promised to Domeric Bolton, the heir to the Dreadfort. He offered Arya instead." Cersei quipped.

XxxxxxX

Bran lay back on a spread out, old cloak as he watched Arya bouncing up and down on his small cock, her ass milking his cock, causing him to mewl in pleasure as she clenched down tightly, sending the most delicious sensations through his slim body.

"Did you hear Sansa earlier today? She's convinced she is going to be the next Queen when she marries that stuck up Prince Joffrey." Arya said with a scowl as she rode him faster.

"I thought father already promised her to the Boltons," Bran asked, his small hands gripping her hips as he thrust up into her.

"He did, but Mother keeps trying to talk him out of it. She insists that Sansa marry some stupid, proper Southron lord. Father will not hear of it, though. He would not dare back out now and insult the Boltons. There is too much history between our houses, and they are one of the strongest houses in the North. Father won't risk a rebellion in the North with Winter coming soon." Arya sighed.

Bran started to speak when the door to the broken tower burst open, and in walked the last two people he ever expected to see here, in the dead of night. He knew they were screwed when he saw the look on the faces of Prince Joffrey and his sister, Princess Myrcella, as they quickly pulled apart, doing their best to cover themselves.

Joffrey wore a cruel smirk as he stepped forward. "Well, well. A couple of degenerate wolves, rutting in the dead of night. Wait until father and Lord Stark hear about this."


	4. IV.

It had been happening for a few weeks now. Not frequently, at first, but more and more lately, as Joffrey grew more comfortable with the encounters. It had started about three weeks ago, when he stumbled across Arya and her younger brother rutting in a fallen tower, in the dead of Night. She was a convenient enough way to satisfy his urges when he could not be alone with his sister, especially since the news broke that they were now betrothed. The announcement of their marriage seemed to infuriate Arya more than her stupid sister.

He knew it was wrong to condemn her for her relationship with her little brother when he had the same relationship with Myrcella. Still, he had begun to look forward to initiating these encounters. The fierce anger and resentment burning in her dark eyes during them furthered his pleasure. The idea that she was so unwilling, unlike all the girls he had been within the Capital. That spark of fury in her eyes as she glared at him, struggling inside to hide the signs of her pleasure as he lay panting on top of her, his hips moving against hers. That smug Northern pride of hers replaced by bitter acceptance.

His father would kill him if he discovered that he had deflowered his betrothed before their wedding, but so far, nobody had found his secret, and she showed no signs of revealing his inappropriate hobby. He was a prince of the realm. He should not be taking such liberties with his betrothed before they were wed. But it was fun to bend her to his will. To force his willful wife-to-be to submit when he knew she would much prefer to run him through with that stupid sword of hers. How she had managed to keep it was beyond him. He only assumed she had managed to keep it hidden as they traveled the King's Road back to King's Landing. 

He had recently forced her to start participating in his liaisons with Myrcella as well, who had been surprisingly eager to experiment with the stubborn wolf girl, to his surprise and delight. Images of the many sick and disturbing things he had made her do when the three of them got together worried him for a moment, fearing that she would rebel and tell someone, but he couldn't seem to help himself. Even now, the fears that her resistance would grow, and she would tell her father nagged him; he shoved them from his mind. He told himself repeatedly that he was in for a penny already, so why not a pound.  
******  
(Flashback Starts)

Walking down the corridors of the Red Keep, he had just left one of the informal dining halls, where he had been required to have lunch with the King, his father—sighing mentally in frustration at his anger towards the man who seemed to do little more than bellow and stuff his face while leering at the servants who waited on him. His father had insisted on having yet another talk about the future and his responsibilities as a prince.

As his mother referred to the man, Robert, the fat drunk fool, once again belittled him for not being the man he thought he should be. Complaining about his lack of interest in being a warrior and for not treating the Starks, those miserable barbarians from the North, with the proper respect he felt they deserved. Honestly, why his father treated them so well was beyond him. His father's friend, Ned Stark, was in his personal opinion, an arrogant and up-jumped fool who considered himself the equal of his father. At the same time, his daughters, Sansa and Arya, were merely stupid, boring girls. Sansa was a silly fool who droned on endlessly about things that meant absolutely nothing to him. She had spoken unceasingly of the future they would share as King and Queen, how beautiful and perfect their life would be, the children they would have. It was enough to make him want to hit her sometimes, but his father would be furious. Thankfully, she had been left behind in the North, to be fostered at the Dreadfort with her betrothed.

Besides, his mother insisted he would one day have to marry Lord Stark's youngest daughter and to pay her the occasional courtesy would be helpful in the future. Arya was wild and willful. Foul-mouthed and full of herself, just like her brothers back in Winterfell. The girl had no sense of decency whatsoever. Insisting on playing with swords instead of knowing her place and acting as a proper lady should. He had been looking for a way to get even with her since she had humiliated him and thrown his new sword into the river during their ride South, shortly after he had taken her maidenhead in that broken tower.

He was desperate to get one over on her and was sure he had just found the perfect way. Earlier that day, he had observed her training with a sword in one of the Red Keep's empty conference rooms and decided to expose her secret to her father, who would surely punish her severely.

Walking into the room, empty save for the two of them, he smirked, watching as she turned to face him at the sounds of his footsteps. Her face scrunched up with rage as she spotted him, her eyes clouded with resentment and fury as she clenched her fists, preparing to challenge him. He swept forward slowly, content in the knowledge that his status protected him, a smirk on his face.

XxxxxxX

In the stables of Winterfell, Jeyne propped herself up against the side of a wooden stall as Jon thrust into her ass from behind, panting and grunting, his woolen breeches around his ankles. He had intended to leave for the Wall when Lord Stark headed South, but Bran had fallen from the broken tower in a mysterious accident, and Robb had pleaded with him to stay. Heartbroken and filled with sorrow, Lady Stark had refused to leave Bran's side. Worried for Robb and seeking to help him with the burden of his new duties, he had agreed to stay on as Robb's new Steward, replacing Vayon Poole, who had traveled south with Lord Stark. 

Jeyne had been forced to remain behind, and Jon continued to take full advantage of his new pet's charms. Thrusting forcefully into the girl from behind, eliciting another muffled cry from her lips, Jon grinned. Before leaving for the Capital, Lord Stark had surprised everyone when he announced a gift from his friend, the King. A decree was giving Jon the Stark name. Catelyn was furious and had refused to say goodbye to her husband before he left. Leaning down over the sobbing Jeyne's shoulder, he whispered in her ear. "Our fun is just getting started, girl." He laughed as he pulled out of her ass and pushed her to her knees in front of him.

XxxxxxX

The Dothraki camp outside was filled with the sounds of revelry as the wedding festivities raged on, well into the evening. Drogo had taken her a short distance from the main body of the camp to bed her. He was much larger than her brother and was far more gifted. Viserys rarely lasted more than a few thrusts during the months he had "trained her" to make the Khal happy, all so he could have his army. She sometimes wondered whether Viserys realized what he was getting himself into with the Dothraki. The Khal and his khalassar were nothing like what Viserys had told her to expect. She was not sure what to make of the man yet, she decided, lying under the horse-hide pelts that served as blankets, in the tent she shared with the Khal.

XxxxxxX

Theon lay on his side in Lord Stark's bed in the Tower of the Hand. Beside him, Lord Stark lay slumbering after having used him yet again for his pleasure. By now, he was numb to this chore, having accepted it as part of his life. He was surprised when Lord Stark insisted that he accompany him to the Capital instead expecting that he would be left behind at Winterfell, to ensure his father's good behavior, and support Robb. Robb was like a brother to him. That had changed with Jon's legitimization. Instead of joining the Night's watch, Jon would become Robb's right hand, and he, Theon, would remain as squire to Lord Stark.

TBC


End file.
